Liar
by Mello's Favorite Reject
Summary: The words tumbled from my mouth faster than I could think them through. I was lying to him. The things I said were going to hurt him later, but for now, look at how happy he looks. RATED T OneShot


**Title:** Liar

**Summary:** The words tumbled from my mouth faster than I could think them through. I was lying to him. The things I said were going to hurt him later, but for now, look at how happy he looks.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own DN.

**Author's Note:** I'm depressed, so sue me. Wrote this up. Here ya go.

…

* * *

He smiles at me, and I return the look of happiness. He tells me that he loves me, and I wrap my arms around him, pulling him close and whispering the same endearment. His eyes sparkle like the brightest gems –so bright and nearly transparent, and mine are dark blue, like the depths of the ocean –so deep and good for hiding things.

He tells me about his day. How long and tiresome it was to him, but how simple it was, in reality. And in turn, I tell him about the sort of day he expects me to have.

I lie to him. I always fuckin' lie. Not because I want to, but because I don't want to hurt him.

In the end, he'll learn the truth, I know. And in the end, he'll hurt twice as much. But for now, I look at his smile, and I want my lies to be the truth.

I want to take him in my arms and love him for real, but I know that could never happen.

I don't love him.

I love to use him. I'd rather shove a gag in his mouth, cuff his hands behind his back, bend him over the table, and just fuck him senseless.

And he calls that love.

I call it a good, hard fuck.

And he thinks he wants this.

I could take it or leave it. I don't need him. I don't even know how much I want him anymore.

But I've seen him cry before. Back when we were young and he just lost his mom to cancer, or so I told him. He cried so much, but he'd have cried harder if he knew the truth.

And that's when I started to lie to him. Straight from the beginning. Because I'd rather lie to him than see those tears and hear those sobs again.

Am I a good guy or a bad guy for this? Call me a martyr.

In the end, I fuck shit up, and I'm okay with that.

For now, I'll look into his happy eyes and gauge the smile he gives, knowing that my words caused that expression of fortified glee.

Even if my words are lies. Even if I've never once told him anything of value.

"_Yes, your mom died of cancer. But she loved you._" No, she didn't. She left you for some douchebag who didn't want children. She gave you up, Matt, but I can't let you know that.

"_That goldfish you had, I wanted to see if he could swim in the toilet. I thought it'd be funny. I didn't mean to flush him." _I meant it. The damn thing died, was floating upside down in his bowl. You didn't need to learn about death at such a young age.

"_Good job being Twelfth, Matt. Seriously, that's cool. Come help me study. Help me beat Near." _In truth, I knew you could do better. I studied with you, not for my own sake, but yours. I helped you get better without you even realizing it. I helped you become Third.

"_L's dead, Matt… I'm leaving. Near is going to be the new L, and I'm going off to deal with shit my way. Stay here. I'll be back for you." _I never wanted to come back for you. I knew what kind of life awaited me, but you were still so innocent at the time; I couldn't take you with me. I didn't want you to get involved with me ever again. I didn't want to be your damn babysitter. I was tired of candy-coating all the bad shit in life.

"_Matt… I'm ready for you. Come on." _ I wasn't ready then, and I'm still not ready now. But I was injured after that explosion, and I needed help. What else could I have done?

…

So Many years together with him, and not once had I been honest. I had to wonder if he ever found out about all my lies. I don't think so, or else he wouldn't devote so much time to helping me; he wouldn't hug and kiss me, and tell me everything's okay. If he truly knew who I was and how much I've lied, he'd hate me; he'd never be able to say sweet words to me again.

And I dread the day that happens.

For now, I hold him close one last time, allowing him to believe in false affections. Because this Kira shit is getting worse, and I have a plan. I've gone over most of it with him, leaving out one very big detail.

Is it really lying, if I don't tell him everything? Some would say: yes.

I don't know. I don't care.

I just want him to be happy. So, as I hand him a pack of cigarettes and his favorite pair of goggles, I ask him if he's ready.

I slip on my helmet and straddle my motorcycle, getting one last look at him, knowing that I'll never see him again. Knowing… that I'm still lying to him.

And he's still smiling at me, just like he always did. He's fearless as he opens the car door and slides inside.

His mouth moves; he's saying something, but I can't hear it. I rev the bike and peel out, not looking back.

Because… I've lied. I've never loved, and I've only used. But… somehow, I like to think that I cared. I like to at least pretend that the words we've shared had meant something. I entertain the idea... that he and I might have been something more than what we were.

But in the end, I'm lying to myself, aren't I?

_**End**_

…

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**/Still depressed. Lookie here. Review./**


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